I stand here at the gateway,
Where time is unravelling.
No one can ever stray,
Even if they're travelling.
Sounds and sights are a blur,
As time flows through like a river.
Despite the events that occur,
I'm rooted until picked like a clover.
Unravelling around me,
I feel the splash of history.
Life is a soup like minestrone,
A muddle and mix of inventory.
Finally, a pathway I see,
A dramatic doorway at the end.
Following it through blindedly,
I returned to time what he did lend.
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Petals of Poetry
PoetryIn the garden of poetry, these are just a few petals of Poetry I will share. These will be from my two different Neobook accounts. Book 3 in my Poetry series. Book 1 - Poetry Collection Book 2 - Words Against War series ( a seven part poetry collect...
